


makes me wanna be all yours

by sitandadmire



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, Girl Direction, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Partying, Scissoring, Sexual Content, Tiny bit of fluff!!!!!!, University Student Harry, University Student Louis, University Student Niall, University Student Zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9081394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitandadmire/pseuds/sitandadmire
Summary: "There's a distance between Harry and Louis on the entire journey back, until, finally, they're inside the flat again and it's quiet. Music still echoes distantly in Harry's ears and vibrates through the ribs inside her chest. The door shuts behind them and suddenly, Louis is pressing Harry up against the wall." Or: Harry meets Louis when she visits her best friend Niall, who's away at university.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lit_anon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_anon/gifts).



> title & inspiration from 'guys my age' by hey violet // ok so i wrote this as a pinch hitter because i loved your prompts and i ran out of time. *sad trombone* so i do apologize for the length and overall mess!! but i still hope it's something you enjoy.
> 
> usual disclaimers: this is a work of fiction and has no connection to one direction etc. please read the ratings/tags.

Harry stands in front of the square bathroom mirror. She tries on five different shades of lipstick before settling on a bright, rich, cherry red. She rubs her lips together, to make sure they're evenly covered, then smacks her lips once. There's a muted bang on the door just then, probably Niall telling her it's time to go.

"Oi! Styles! You coming?"

"Yeah," she calls out. Taking one last look at her waiting reflection, and ignoring the lavender still beneath her eyes, Harry hums and leaves the room. The light turns off on its own.

Harry slides into the back seat before closing the door. Niall's sat in the front with the driver, because she knows where they're going. Louis and Zayn are next to her, already commenting on something they've seen through the window. They both look gorgeous and the tattoo on Zayn's chest is peeking out from under her white t-shirt and jacket top.

Harry, though, can't take her eyes off the way the hem of Louis' dress sits across the middle of her thighs, leaving nothing but bare skin.

When they pull up to the crowded curb and spill out from the frozen black of the vehicle, the air is cool, nice against her warm cheeks. The line seems to hug the sidewalk for ages. Niall waltzes up to the door and gives the bouncer an exaggerated kiss on the cheek, like they know each other, but only on weekends. She motions towards the rest of the group.

He nods then, letting them pass with a two-second smile. Like magic.

The beat is electric, instant, and the bass is turned up so high that Harry can feel her own heart beating inside her chest.

She cranes her neck around for the bar right away, eyes landing on the industrial, multi-colored glow like it's a signal in the sky. Niall presses her cheek to Harry's, tells her they'll meet up later, and disappears into the crowd with Zayn.

Without waiting for anyone or anything else, Harry makes her way to get a drink. God, she needs it.

"Tequila shot, please," she says to the bartender. 

Just then, there's a teasing voice behind her.

"Not wasting any time?"

Harry doesn't have to turn around suddenly, even though it makes her skin prickle.

Somehow, after less than a week that Harry's been in town visiting her best friend Niall, the melody of Louis' voice is already wired into her brain. Through ordering stacks of extra veggie pizzas, making wine and beer concoctions, watching late night movies, and sleeping in the same bed because there's only two rooms in the flat.

Nothing's happened.

Yet.

She looks over her shoulder nonetheless, watching, as Louis comes up next to her and holds up two fingers to the bartender. She stops just by Harry's elbow.

"Hi," Harry says, with a shrug. "'Course not."

Words are unavailable when the bartender finally sets two small glasses on the counter in front of them. Harry smiles politely, before picking one up. She clinks it against the second one, and throws her head back, downing the liquor in one go. It's sour and burning and fresh.

Louis copies her, making a face after. It's horribly cute.

They take two more shots after that, until Harry's trying to sit down, feeling the earth going a bit uneven beneath her feet. But Louis is there. Louis is always there. Still standing, she puts a hand on Harry's shoulder and brushes her lips against Harry's ear. The music makes it hard to talk privately, Harry tries to remind herself.

It kinda tickles. Harry lets out a laugh.

"What're you doing?"

"You smell so good," Louis murmurs happily, "Anyone ever tell you that?"

Harry doesn't answer.

"We should dance," she suggests.

"Oh yeah?" 

Louis nods.

Part of Harry's just digging her heels in the sand on purpose, because she likes a good chase. The other part of her is still baffled that Louis might actually return the feelings she's felt since they met. Strong ones, intertwined vibes that keep dragging her back to Louis' auburn hair and the way she knows exactly what to say.

There's been an ache in her chest because she wants Louis' mouth on hers.

Harry looks into Louis' eyes when she pulls away, then reaches for Louis' waiting hand.

She eagerly pulls them both towards the sea of moving bodies and she can swear, right then, there's a devious twinkle in Louis' eye. They move past a section of couches and small tables, covered in empty glasses and plates of food, and Harry gets a brief glimpse of Niall and Zayn, not dancing, but openly kissing like there's no one else in the entire building.

She whistles at them as they brush past. Niall's middle finger is imagined.

Harry lets go of Louis' hand.

They start light, friendly, dancing to a 90s pop tune that Harry honestly hasn't heard in ages. It's a delight. Louis throws her head back at one point, laughs, and Harry thinks it's probably the best thing she's ever seen.

The music changes eventually, but Harry loses track of what's being played. The space between them changes too, growing smaller and smaller, until Louis turns around without second thought and presses herself close to Harry's body. Her dress is pitch black, tight at the top, and loose around the bottom like petals of a flower just opening up. The fabric moves when Louis does, gets tangled under her hand and pushed up between them.

There's a rhythm in the song and it feels like they find it with such ease. Harry puts a hand in her own hair and pulls some of it back because she's gotten so fucking hot. She can feel Louis' ass pressing against her thighs, over and over, as if teasing her. She can't help but let out shaky whimpers in Louis' ear.

_"Louis."_

Louis turns around, facing Harry now, eyes alight. She gently touches Harry's cheek with her hand.

"You okay?" Louis mouths over the music.  
  
Harry's mouth feels dry. But her body's on fire.

"I, I need another drink."

Louis nods even if she doesn't hear what Harry is saying and follows her back to the bar, putting a hand on Harry's waist to steady herself against the people dancing. It's calmer once they make it off the floor and back to the metal stools. The bartender eyes them, but is also drying glasses with a cloth rag, and doesn't say anything. 

Harry feels a clumsy kiss against her neck. 

"Sex on the beach," Harry says, a little too loudly, "On the rocks."

If there's a time to let go, it's the moment they're in. She's leaving tomorrow, after all. Back to Cheshire and people there that need her. She can't bring herself to tell Louis that information.

"'s that an invitation?" Louis jokes, stifling a laugh against Harry's back.

She clings to Harry while they wait for the cocktail, wrapping both arms around her, and making Harry feel extra sticky and warm. There's a slight sway in the way she's standing, like her eyes are closed and she's imagining them somewhere else with all the time in the world.

The drink is cool against Harry's throat, sweeter, unlike the previous ones. She tries to pace herself, taking moderate sips, but Louis finally sits down next to her and is watching her with blue intensity. It makes her nervous. She holds out her hand in Harry's direction and Harry eventually hands the rest of the cocktail to Louis. 

Luckily Zayn made them eat a little bit before they left the flat, too. Niall says she does that all the time, looks out for others. But not necessarily in an obvious way.

Time feels endless.

They head to the bathroom together. There's no one else inside. Harry checks her makeup after she re-emerges and washes her hands. Her lips are smudged with color, and damp. She decides to wipe it all off with paper.

Once they're both done, Louis asks Harry if she can kiss her before she opens the door. Harry examines the expression on Louis' face, the quiet eagerness in her eyes, and the way her voice sounds so vulnerable. Like the mask she normally wears is dissolving with every second that passes.

Harry whispers "yes" and their mouths meet. Slowly, softly, carefully. But just as Harry begins to lean into her, Louis breaks away.

"Not here," Louis says. "Wanna take you home."

Harry licks her bottom lip, forehead pressed against Louis'.

"Okay."

They hold hands all the way back outside, by the curb, and while Louis sets up a ride on her phone. The cool air surrounds them. Harry takes a deep breath, lips curving into a cautious smile when Louis looks over at her. She doesn't know where the others are. Possibly doing the same thing. But Niall promised Harry earlier in the day that she'd go to Zayn's place instead.

To give them privacy.

Harry threw a pillow at Niall's head, which made Niall howl with laughter.

There's a distance between Harry and Louis on the entire journey back, until, finally, they're inside the flat again and it's quiet. Music still echoes distantly in Harry's ears and vibrates through the ribs inside her chest. The door shuts behind them and suddenly, Louis is pressing Harry up against the wall.

"Finally," Louis whispers against Harry's mouth, before closing the gap. Harry feels the curve of Louis' lips, the way her tongue presses into Harry's mouth as they kiss more deeply, and with more confidence. "Mm. Race you to my bed."

The words make her shiver. And with clumsy laughter, they push and hurry past each other until Louis not-so-gracefully kicks the door closed, and they both fall against the bed together.

Harry's chest is awake with nervous breaths as Louis lowers herself on top of Harry, between her long legs. Her hair looks tangled and messy from dancing and doing this - whatever this is - and Harry can't help but reach up and run a shaky hand through it, before brushing her fingertips against Louis' cheek.

"You're beautiful," she tells Louis. Like it's a secret.

"So are you," is the answer. There's a pause. Then, "I need to see you come."

"Make me," Harry murmurs. "Louis, please."

They undress in a perfect montage of layers being pushed aside and hopelessly falling onto the wood floor, until Louis is completely naked. Harry's only wearing her bottom lingerie, the barely-there strap fitting across her hips and tight under her in the back. Louis scoots down the bed and lets her nose barely trail across the bump of space between Harry's legs.

Harry's hand curls against the mattress.

Louis doesn't hesitate any longer, as she finally pulls off her underwear. Harry, in truth, is staring at the roundness of Louis' breasts, the way they curve and fit up against her body. Her nipples are dark and hard. Harry bucks her hips against nothing except air, feeling wet and wanting to be touched.

Now. 

"Good girl," Louis says.

She runs both of her polished hands across Harry's inner thighs, taking a brief moment to let the image of Harry lying there with her legs spread to sink in, before letting her fingers travel to the delicate folds near Harry's swollen, waiting clit. Louis carefully presses them back with a slight bit of tension, like she's done this before. A soft, curious smile paints itself across her face.

Eyes cast down, Louis finally leans in and presses her tongue to Harry's pussy. The satisfaction is instantaneous. Like setting off a firework. Harry moans into the air. The motion increases slowly but surely, the pressure too, as Louis takes it upon herself to lick up and down in a rhythm - like she's hungry.

It feels so fucking good when she dares to trace over Harry's hole with the tip of her curious tongue, and it's not nearly enough.

Not enough.

Harry's breath quickens. But it's only when Louis moves her mouth back up, lips wet with Harry's slick, and begins sucking on Harry's clit directly that Harry cries out. She pushes at the mattress with restless heels, but Louis is holding her hips down with two hands, like she's expecting it. Harry can't go anywhere.

Doesn't want to. 

"Please, right there -" 

Louis hums against her, giving her a few more generous licks, before pulling away unexpectedly. Harry exhales and opens her eyes. Louis sits up, wiping at her pink lips with her fingers.

"Why'd you s-stop?"

"Just wanted a taste."

"Oh."

She sucks on her thumb, staring at Harry, before tilting her head.

"Can I ride you?"

"Yeah, I want you to -"

Harry hesitates. Louis gathers up her messy hair, loose strands sticking to her neck with sweat. Her cheeks are clearly flushed with crimson. She scoots closer, watching the lines of Harry's face with curious eyes. It doesn't help. It just makes it worse.

"What's wrong?"

Harry whines quietly, lips parting.

"I -"

"You want my tits?" Louis guesses, with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you'd never ask."

"Wait," Harry blinks and babbles, "you know?"

Louis rolls her eyes a little.

"Yeah, babe. Always staring at 'em." 

"Sorry."

"Hey, don't say that. Here." She smiles. "Touch them."

Louis straddles Harry, then guides Harry's hand towards her chest.

Harry starts slowly, using her hand to cup one of Louis' bare breasts. She presses her hand against it finally, like it's something wonderful to behold, and Harry would probably laugh if they weren't ass-naked in Louis' bed, before squeezing gently. She does it a couple of times, fascinated at the feeling, Louis' nipple hard between her fingers.

The curve underneath them is enticing too, lovely, delicate. Harry runs her thumb under both of Louis' breasts. She looks up a couple of times to see that Louis' eyelids are heavy, content. Then- Harry dares to use her mouth, pressing her lips against one of the nipples, giving it a few soft licks that elicit a huge sigh, before closing her mouth around the hard tip and sucking lazily.

It feels like heaven, to show Louis how much she wants her. How much she feels.

When there's a definite tug at her hair, Harry releases with a tiny, wet pop and looks up. Louis leans down to kiss her, like she's been waiting too long, gently rocking her body against Harry. She breaks away, leaving Harry's lips wanting more, and reaches over the bed to get into a drawer in the nightstand. She fishes around for a small, bright green bottle of lube.

Harry watches as Louis coats her own fingers, before spreading it over her pussy. Satisfied, she closes the top with one hand and sets it aside. Louis meets Harry's gaze, wiping her other hand clean on her stomach.

"Turn your hips," she murmurs and Harry does, knees eagerly apart and body angled so that when Louis settles herself against Harry, she fits perfectly. Like it's meant to be. Louis starts to slowly fuck Harry beneath her and Harry lets her head fall back against the pillow, hand feeling for her own breast, nails digging into the bare skin.

The motion of Louis' hips eventually reaches a steady rhythm. And Harry loves when Louis curls a hand around her ankle, something inside her still burning brightly from the way they danced together.

They collide. Time is endless.

It sounds so good; the way their skin beats against each other's freely and desperately, the way Harry's hard clit is rubbing against hers. The springs somewhere inside the mattress squeak, and the creak of the bed against the wood floor repeats itself. Louis' tits are bouncing happily, and her beautiful mouth falls open with a choked gasp.

The sight alone is too much.

"Fuck," Harry says, the edge of her relief approaching. "Oh fuck -"

Louis moans loudly into the still, sweaty air as she drives herself into Harry repeatedly.

"Shitshit - shit- _"_

Louis comes first, with a sharp cry, her stomach and lower body tensing up against Harry's. She rocks her hips a couple more times, unable to stop. Heat just barely emerges between them. Harry doesn't really care what it is, when it's real and because of her. But the thought makes Harry's orgasm finally catch up.

The electricity swallows her, pulling her legs together, and arching her back. She breathes heavily until the calm of the moment after begins to take over. Harry closes her eyes for a second. She opens them again because of the movement, and sees a tired Louis gently collapsing on top of her.

"Incredible," Harry whispers, brushing Louis' hair out of her face. Her cheek is hot against Harry's chest. Louis makes a sound of agreement, somewhere in between a relieved sigh and a laugh.

They fall silent, letting their heart rates slow and even out, until they both make it to the bathroom and squeeze into the shower. It takes them a few extra minutes to soap and rinse, because they're still heavy with a soft happiness and alcohol.

Harry hopes that they won't wake up too hungover. That she won't forget any details about their night together. Harry realizes in the middle of putting on pajamas that she doesn't want it to be the last. Louis falls asleep with her body curled against Harry's. 

The next afternoon, all of Harry's stuff is packed. She already said goodbye to Zayn earlier because she has to work all day. Niall's there at the flat, but won't go to the station with her after all. They hug tightly, swaying, not letting go for what feels like a couple of minutes. Harry rubs her back, knowing they'll talk very soon. They've gotten on so well, the four of them, and Harry's going to miss it.

Harry lets her fingers fiddle with the folded paper in the front pocket of her jeans. She puts the strap of her duffel bag over her head and across her shoulders, adjusting it, before looking up at Louis. They're standing on the platform and it's almost time for the whistle. 

Louis looks different today, Harry thinks, and it's not the light. She smiles softly at Harry.

"I had fun. This week." 

Harry swallows.

"Me too," she replies.

There's no point in waiting any longer, so Harry reveals the letter that she's been keeping safe. She holds it out to Louis.

"I'm...coming back. In the fall. I got in."

She watches as Louis scans the black ink of the notice from the university, then looks up at her. Doesn't say anything. For the first time since they met, Louis is speechless. Harry wonders if she should explain why she didn't tell Louis, but then, as if the details don't matter, arms are being thrown around her neck.

Harry presses a hand to her back.

"I know," Harry continues, as Louis steps back, "like, I can't ask you to wait for me." 

"Then don't," Louis quips. "Gimme your phone."

Harry does, exchanging it for the worn paper, which she tucks away into her bag this time so that it won't get lost in the wind. More of a metaphor now than anything. Louis pokes at the device several times, pauses in thought, then hands it back to her. But the screen is dark again.

It makes Harry feel like she should wait until she's alone to look.

Louis grins. She leans in and kisses Harry once, on the lips, before waving towards the train bound for Cheshire.

"Better go. Might get stuck here."

Harry breaks into a smile.

"Wouldn't be a bad thing," she answers back.

When she's sitting in her seat, Harry looks out the window to see that Louis is gone. She unlocks her phone instead and finds it open to the contacts page. There's a new number. And a shit ton of emojis, including a cocktail and the red alarm.

Harry laughs. 

Only 72 days to go. 

Getting off the train in Cheshire feels different. She stands on the platform for a moment, after phoning Mum to say she'll be home soon, and stares at the blurry photo of them that Louis' just texted her.

Seeing it makes her feel safe for the first time in a long time, like thousands of beams of light from a distant sun, blanketing her with the hope of something long-lasting and beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
